


Stand Up and Fight

by HunterusHeroicus93



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hallucifer, Hallucinations, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Protective Castiel, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Has Nightmares, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-09-20 01:53:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17013324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HunterusHeroicus93/pseuds/HunterusHeroicus93
Summary: Sam doesn't want to fight anymore, and Dean reminds him he has to.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Songfic. "Stand Up and Fight" by Turisas.

**_ The pouring rain _**  
**_ Sticks my hair to my face _**  
**_ An empty gaze is all I have left _**  
**_ The stars that once lit my way _**  
**_ Have dimmed, the skies are grey _**  
**_ The path once so clear   
Faded away _**   
  
  
Sam stood outside the Bunker, gazing at the dark sky. It was cold, and he was wet through with rain, but he barely noticed. It actually felt pleasant, soothing his aching head.   
  
The nightmare that had woken him had been stronger and more vivid than previous ones. It was the same as always, of course – the Cage, Lucifer, various hooks and chains – but somehow different.  Maybe it was his own fading strength that was causing the dreams to grow more intense.   
  
Sam lifted a hand and idly removed a lock of soggy hair from his eye, then lowered it to trace the edge of his gun in his pocket.   
  
_ If only Dean knew _ _._... he thought. He shook his head and scolded himself.  _ You don’t want him to, remember? You can’t blame him for not knowing. _ __   
  
He sighed, then turned back towards the Bunker. Maybe he’d feel better in the morning.   
  
\------   
  
“Hey, Sleeping Beauty!” Dean called cheerfully, as Sam appeared in the kitchen.   
  
Sam groaned. “Coffee?”   
  
“Already on it.” Dean eyed Sam suspiciously, and cleared his throat.   
  
“So... how’d you sleep?”   
  
Sam looked up, and swallowed. “Okay, I guess. You?”   
  
“Fine. Course, the creaky door woke me.”   
  
Sam coughed. “Right.”   
  
“Come on, Sam,” Dean chastised. “Where’d you go?”   
  
“Just... for a walk.”   
  
“At 3am, in a rainstorm?” Dean snorted. “Okay.”   
  
The coffee pot switched off then, distracting Dean from the conversation. Sam silently thanked it. He took his mug and went back to his room to get dressed. Or, that’s what he told himself. In reality, he just wanted to be away from his brother. Dean already suspected something was up, and he couldn’t take the prying. He sat down on his bed, wrapping his long fingers around the warm cup. He didn’t realise he was squeezing so hard until his knuckles turned white and his hands ached. He set the mug aside and lay back on his bed.   
   
_ I can’t take this anymore. Lucifer is still out there, and no one can stop him. He’ll find me sooner or later. What am I supposed to do? _  
__  
__  
**_ Blessed are the days when life is intent and clear _**  
**_ No falter or doubt, I know the way _**  
**_ They are the days, I hoped _**  
**_ I never stepped from this road _**  
_**The spark I once had seems to have died**_


	2. Chapter 2

A loud banging on his door jolted him awake.   
  
“Sammy!” Dean called. “Open up!”   
  
_ Oh, hell. _   
  
Sam groaned and hauled himself off the bed, rubbing his eyes. He cracked open the door and peered at Dean.   
  
“Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”   
  
“Dozed off? You’ve been in here three hours. What the hell, man?”   
  
Sam sighed and let his brother into the room.   
  
“What’s going on?”   
  
“Nothing, Dean. I just...” Sam hesitated, not sure what to say.   
  
Dean waited, concern evident in his expression. He had known something was up for a while. Ever since they’d found out Lucifer was still out of the Cage, Sam had been withdrawn, and Dean had lain awake listening to his brother’s screams several nights a week. He’d trusted Sam to come to him when he was ready, but now it looked like he’d have to make him talk.   
  
“It’s Lucifer, isn’t it?”   
  
Sam flinched at the name, and Dean didn’t miss it. He sighed.   
  
“Come on, man. You gotta snap out of this. You can’t let him control you.”   
  
“I know, Dean. But I can’t....” Sam’s voice trembled, and he stopped, taking a deep breath. “We don’t know where he is. He could find me at any time. Knowing he’s out there... it’s hard. We can’t stop him, nobody can. He’ll come for me sooner or later.”   
  
“No,” Dean said defiantly. “He won’t. I let him torture you once, I’m not going to do that again. You can fight this, I know you can. You got me, and Cas, and we’re not gonna let you do this to yourself. You’re gonna make yourself sick again. You gotta fight, Sammy.”   
  
Dean moved to sit on the bed next to Sam, and placed a hand on his shoulder. A tear had wound its way down his brother’s cheek, and he wiped it away with his sleeve.   
  
Sam sniffed, and nodded. “I can fight this. I  _will_ fight this.”   
  
_** Stand up and fight **_  
_** Stand up and look into the light **_  
_** Pushing the clouds away **_  
_** Stand up and fight   
Stand up and see the sky turn bright   
Fight for a better day **_  
  
  
\-----  
  
  
This time, when Sam awoke, sweating and panting, he wasn’t alone. He jumped at the sound of the voice, but he blinked the fog from his eyes and focused. Dean was sat in a chair beside his bed, a blanket draped over his lap, which slipped to the floor as Dean darted forward.   _"Sam!"_   
  
“Dean?” Sam gasped, sitting up straight. “I... He...”   
  
“It’s okay,” Dean hushed. “It was just a dream.” He dabbed something cold on Sam’s forehead, and Sam scrambled away from him, almost tumbling off the other side of the bed.   
Dean realised his mistake immediately. “Right, the cold. Crap. Sorry, little brother.” He put the damp towel down and waited for Sam to calm himself. Squeezing his eyes shut, Sam took several deep breaths, before moving back to his position next to Dean.   
  
“Thanks, Dee, for staying. I appreciate it, I really do. I’m sorry I can’t...” His breath caught in his throat and he looked away, suddenly feeling vulnerable. He hated his brother seeing him like this. He always tried to be strong around Dean, only letting the façade drop when he was alone.   


“I’ll always be there when you need me, you know that.” He handed Sam a glass of water, which Sam gulped down in one. His throat hurt, and he realised he’d been screaming. Dammit.   
  
I just want this to be over.   
  
It would be easier than fighting. To just give up, let Lucifer have him, to descend into madness as quickly as possible. But he knew Dean would never allow it, and he couldn’t allow himself to, either. He’d fought too hard already, been through too much, to let it all go to waste.

**_What a relief it would be to end this all_ **  
**_How easy to fly the white flag and give up_ **  
**_But would I run today_ **  
**_Just to die another day_ **  
**_Give up now and every fight_ **  
****_Has been in vain_


	3. Chapter 3

Six hours later, the brothers woke to the smell of breakfast cooking. Or rather, burning. They rushed out of the room to find Cas in the kitchen, fumbling with pots and pans, trying to keep eggs from exploding whilst attempting to expel the smouldering bread from the toaster.   
   
“Cas, what are you doing?” Dean asked, slightly amused.   
   
“Oh, um, well since you were up half the night with...” he glanced at Sam, and cleared his throat. “I thought I’d try to make breakfast. I’ve never done it before, you see, but it looked easy. Apparently, I can command armies, but I can’t make eggs and toast.”   
   
“Alright, you put the coffee on, I’ll make the breakfast,” Dean ordered. He threw out the burnt food and started anew, and within minutes they were all sat at the table wolfing down scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and coffee.   
   
Sam felt much better after a good breakfast, almost himself again.  His brain still twitched with thoughts of the Devil, but he pushed them away, determined not to let them ruin the morning.   
   
The afternoon turned out to be another matter entirely.   
   
They were rifling through some newspapers, looking for a case, when Sam happened to glance at an article accompanied by a slightly grainy, black and white picture of a tall man with tousled hair. Sam’s thoughts, fears, and memories crashed over him all at once and he cried out at the sudden influx of images in his head. Dropping the paper onto the table, he stood and pressed his hands to his temples, knocking his chair backwards. Dean was on his feet in a second. He looked from Sam, curling in on himself, his eyes screwed shut, to the newspaper with the picture of Lucifer on the page.   
   
“Get rid of that,” he said to Cas, hurrying around the table to his brother. “Sammy!”   
   
But Sam didn’t hear Dean, he only heard Lucifer.   
   
_“Sammy....”_  a mocking voice whispered. “ _I’m coming for you, Sammy.”_    
   
_“_ No!” Sam yelled, as loudly and defiantly as he could manage. There was a  _crack_  as his knees hit the hard floor, and pain shot up his legs, but he didn’t care. He only felt ice cold hands around his wrists, heard a voice whispering his name, saw Lucifer hovering in front of him, a gleeful grin accompanying the cruel glint in his eyes.   
   
“ _It’s just you and me now, Sam...”_    
   
   
_\----_    
   
   
_“_ Sammy!” Dean practically slid over the table to get to Sam. “I’m coming, Sammy!” He dropped to his knees at the same time Sam did, and tried to pull his hands away from his head, but Sam only held on tighter. Cas stuffed the newspaper into the bin and joined the brothers on the floor, placing a hand on Sam’s head to find out what was happening inside it.   
   
“Oh, Sam,” Cas muttered sadly.   
   
“What? What is it?” Dean urged.   
   
“Lucifer is inside his head. Sam thinks you’re him.” Cas glanced at Dean’s hands, still grasping his brother’s wrists. “I would stop doing that, if I were you.”   
   
Dean let go instantly, not knowing what to do.   
   
“Dammit, Sam. I don’t know how to stop this. Just tell me what to do, please.” He started to reach out again, but stopped, and dropped his hand to his lap.   
   
“Come on, Sam. Fight it. Fight  _him_. You can do it, kiddo. You’ve done it before. You’ve got this. Think about everything we’ve been through. Everything  _you’ve_ been through. You made it before, and I need you to make it again. Just once more. Come back to me, Sammy, and we’ll find a way to fix this. I just need to you try once more.”   
 

**_Get up, you’ve made it this far_  **  
**_No loser you are_  **  
**_One more time_  **  
**_One more try_  **  
   
   
_\-----_    
   
Sam was drowning, the awful, spiteful voice in his head engulfing him, deafening him. It was taunting him, telling him that he was alone, that no one could help him, but Sam refused to listen, to believe it. Dean wouldn’t leave him. He’d promised. And Sam had promised Dean he’d fight, so that’s what he was going to do. He concentrated as hard as he could, willing himself back to reality, until he heard another voice, cutting through the noise.   
   
“ _I need you... come back....”_    
   
The voice was muffled, only fragments coming through, but he knew it was Dean. His brother was real, and he was helping him fight, to find his way back. And he definitely wasn’t Lucifer. Sam took a deep breath, and lowered his hands.   
   
“ _Just once more...”_ Dean muttered helplessly. He was looking down at his hands, hating that he couldn’t touch Sam, to make him feel that he was there. He didn’t see Sam reaching out to him, until -    
   
“Dean,” Cas said suddenly.   
   
Dean looked up, straight into his brother’s hazel eyes, swollen and red from being shut so tightly. Sam’s fingers curled into his brother’s shirt, and his breath caught in his throat. He swallowed, and stared at Dean. “You’re... you.”   
   
Dean raised a hand slowly. “Yeah, Sammy. I’m me.” He brushed Sam’s hair aside and rested his palm against his cheek. “And you’re you. And Cas is Cas.”   
   
“Alright, you can stop teasing,” Sam said with false annoyance. He laughed slightly, then realised his whole body was cramped and stiff from kneeling on the floor for so long. He pushed himself upright, and two pairs of arms wrapped themselves around him, pulling him slowly to his feet.   
   
“I can fix that,” Cas said, holding up his hand. Sam nodded, and Cas pressed two fingers to Sam’s forehead, easing the ache in seconds.   
   
Sam’s mind felt clearer now than it had in months. He had Dean, and he had Cas. And he had himself. The three most important things he could have to help him get through anything. And he wasn’t going to forget that again.   
  
**_Stand up and fight_**  
**_Stand up and look into the light_**  
**_Pushing the clouds away_**  
**_Stand up and fight_**  
**_Stand up and see the sky turn bright_**  
  
**_Fight for a better day_**

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoy reviews, please leave 'em if you got 'em.  
> <3


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